


Klingon 2.0

by KevinMKelly



Category: Star Trek: The Next Generation, Star Trek: The Next Generation (Movies)
Genre: Gen, Starship Enterprise (Star Trek)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-19
Updated: 2018-08-09
Packaged: 2019-03-06 19:36:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 11,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13418205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KevinMKelly/pseuds/KevinMKelly
Summary: To escape an armada and save his ship, Picard takes the ultimate gamble, but has he destroyed whole civilizations in the process?





	1. Armada

Klingon Two Point Oh

Armada

 

The Enterprise D ran like a bear harried by a pack of dogs. The attacking ships were smaller and weaker but they were many and they had kept the Enterprise headed away from Federation space at full warp for four days.

Picard had lost track of how long he had manned the helm.

“Sir, the cut on your head is bleeding again,” Data said. “I can operate helm control while the doctor attends you?”

“No! I will not leave the bridge,” Picard barked, then forced himself to take a breath and swallow his frustration. His left eye was swollen almost closed from an impact with the helm console and he felt disconnected from his surroundings. He recognised the symptoms of concussion, but attempted to hold his body erect and his shoulders back as he piloted Enterprise.

“Sorry Data, I cannot spare myself while the Enterprise is under attack. Besides, the last report said medical were overwhelmed with casualties.”

Casualties had reduced the bridge crew to three officers; corpses lay where they fell; no one had the strength left to remove them.

The bitter smell of burning plastic filled Picard’s nostrils; the floor under his feet vibrated as the engines struggled.

“Captain, shields are failing! I’ve shut down all secondary systems and used the power to generate the shields- but it’s not enough,” Worf shouted over the sound of the torpedoes striking the shields. 

“Cut power to Life Support,” Picard ordered. “Concentrate shields around…” he willed his brain to work. “Around inhabited areas of the ship.” 

“La Forge, I’m dropping out of warp- now!” Picard called into his com badge and then cut power to the warp nacelles. The ship lurched to sub light speeds. Impulse engines were down, he used thrusters to spin the Enterprise almost 180 degrees. The attacking ships shot past and out of weapons range, and Picard engaged warp drive again.

“Captain, please don’t do that again,” La Forge’s voice came over the com. “We almost breached the warp core!”

“Have we lost them?” Picard asked Data.

“No sir, they are maintaining warp 9 as they turn. We will be in their weapons range again in… 6 minutes,” Data said.

“For every ship I destroy, two more take its place!” Worf punched his console in frustration.   
“They must have advanced replicator technology,” Data said. 

“Replicating this many ships would take massive amounts of energy,” Picard said. “Perhaps from a mothership of some sort?”

“There’s nothing on my targeting scanners, sir. But they are blocking our scans,” Worf realised. “There are four dark patches on the long range scanners, where we should see background radiation and random particles.”

“I suppose the dark areas are out of weapons range?” Picard asked.  
“Yes sir.”

They waited in silence for the enemy to catch up. Everything had been said, everything that could be done had been done.

The ship bucked as torpedoes struck the shields and Picard flew out of his seat. Data caught him with one hand and righted him.

“Enterprise is surrounded by 18 ships. Another wave of 12 ships are holding position a light year behind us, probably in case you try dropping out of warp again, captain,” Worf analysed. “Their weapons are not as powerful as ours, but as their numbers increase-“

“They don’t have to be,” Picard finished for him. He rubbed damp hands on his trouser legs. The same question repeated in his mind: how do we survive this?

“Sir, I have six photon torpedoes left, and two phaser banks; the others are offline.”  
“Have La Forge replicate more torpedoes and assign repair crews,” he ordered.

“Sir, replicators have been offline since yesterday,” Data said. “We no longer generate enough energy to maintain shields and replicators, so you ordered them shut down.”

“Ah… did I?” His mind seemed fogged. Definitely concussion.

“Sensors reading target lock, sir,” Data informed him. Weapons fire rocked the ship, but Enterprise was already travelling at full speed in a straight line, so he took a moment to examine his options. Again. Over the days of battle he had used every trick he had. But I’m missing something, something someone else did?

Picard closed his eyes in exhaustion but jolted from a doze as the ship slowed abruptly.  
“La Forge- we need more warp power!” he demanded over his combadge.

“I’m sorry captain, both warp nacelles are damaged, warp 8 is the best we can do,” the Chief Engineer answered.

“They are concentrating fire on the warp nacelles, sir,” Worf added. “They are trying to bring us to a halt.”

Picard shivered. A stationary Enterprise would be an easy target. He programmed thrusters to spin the ship on the horizontal axis, prodding his fingertips hard against the plastic surface. He wanted the sensation; he deserved pain for failing to save his ship.  
Shots aimed at the nacelles struck the shields of the secondary hull as the ship spun.

“Sir, this makes it harder for our targeting computers to maintain a lock,” Worf complained.

“Save your torpedoes,” Picard said. Six ships less would not make any difference. His body was beaten, his mind on the verge of surrender when a star appeared on the forward sensors. Picard stared at the main screen for a long moment and then aimed the Enterprise straight at the star. That’s it- pinch an idea from history! At warp 8 they would flash past it in a moment, but he plotted a course that would take them through the corona.

“Cut power to weapons and transfer it to shields,” Picard struggled to keep his voice calm, as he plotted a sling shot manoeuvre in his mind. They were surrounded by enemy ships in three dimensions, but there was still the fourth.

“It won’t be enough, Captain,” Data said. 

“Enough for what, Data?” Picard asked as he focussed on programming helm control.  
One of the attack craft cut in front of Enterprise, Picard had a glimpse of an office block shaped vessel and then they burst through it. He breathed a sigh of relief as the shields held.

“One more collision and the shields are gone, sir,” Worf informed him. 

“To protect us from solar radiation as we time warp around this sun,” Data said, matter of factly.

“Time warp?” Worf asked. “Does it not take hours of preparation to plot such a course?”  
“We don’t have hours, Mr Worf,” Picard said. “We might have minutes. But if we can time jump even 5 years, we will be out of range of our attackers.”

“La Forge,” Picard activated his combadge. “We need more power to the warp drive and shields- we are attempting a time warp manoeuvre to escape the attacking fleet.”

“We’re on the verge of a warp core breach,” La Forge warned. “But I can hold it together for a few more minutes.”

“I can plot a more efficient course, captain,” Data said. Picard nodded and sat back as Data reached over and his lon fingers danced across helm controls. The engines screamed. The star grew huge, the bridge tilted as the engines pushed the ship into a tight orbit. It took a fraction of a second to pass through the corona of the star. Picard was aware of his heart pounding and held his breath.

“Time warp achieved, captain!” Data yelled above the noise of the engines.  
Picard’s vision blurred, bile rose in his throat as he looked at Data and saw ghost images streaming away. He locked his eyes on the read outs before him, which made it easier to control his stomach. 

“Geordie- we’re losing shields!” Worf yelled into the com system.

“The warp core is breaching,” Geordie yelled back.

“We need a few more seconds!” Picard banged his fist on the console. Must be a little extra power somewhere.

Picard raised his head and straightened his back, ready for death. A long moment passed as he waited the Enterprise to burn.

“Full Stop-“ Data shouted. “Shut everything down! We need Full Stop now!”

“Helm showing Full Stop,” Picard reported automatically, as he pressed buttons. Metal tore, Picard felt the sound through the soles of his feet and fingertips. The ship bucked and spun. Picard clung to the console. Lights and gravity died. His body drifted, and he pulled himself back into the chair.

“We’ve dropped out of warp, Impulse Power still down- My console down,” Worf reported.  
Picard sat in the dark, willing his breathing and pulse rate to return to normal. They had survived. Now he had to face the grief of friends and colleagues he had lost, and he readied his mind for that task.

“Are you getting anything from sensors- Data?” 

“My console has also powered down,” Data said.

“Battery power should have come on by now,” Picard noted.

“I used the battery power to maintain the shields, sir,” Worf admitted.

“Battery power would only extend the shield life by twenty four seconds,” Data calculated.

“The captain said we only needed a few seconds,” Worf said. His voice had a growl as he defended his decision.

“I did not mean to sound critical, Mr Worf,” Data said. “I calculate that those extra seconds are the reason we are still alive.”

The air was cooler and harder to breath, or was that just his imagination? All he had was the floor under his feet and his ears. The silence and lack of vibration told him his ship was dead.

“Come on, Geordi,” he murmured. “Be alive.”

Emergency lighting flickered and came on, but his control panel remained blank. He turned and saw that Worf had drifted away from his console, towards the rear wall of the bridge. He must have been out of reach of a hand hold when the gravity plating lost power. The big Klingon pushed off from the rear wall and drifted up into the ceiling dome, bounced and made a grab for Commander Ryker’s body as he passed. He caught the commander’s ankle and drew the two together, pulling himself up his friend’s body arm over arm. Picard held his breath as Worf touched his fingers to Ryker’s neck and then pressed an ear to his mouth.

“Is he?” was all he managed.

“Commander Ryker is dead, sir,” Worf said. “May the gates of Sto-vo-core be welcoming, my friend.”

Picard allowed grief to take him. They had survived so much together. Then he pulled himself together, the Enterprise needed her captain. 

“Data, as soon as the turbolifts are functional, head down to engineering and assist La Forge with repairs. We don’t know where or when we are, so focus on shields and engine power.”

“Yes sir,” Data said. He remained still. Picard envied Data his self-control; his own hands trembled.

“Engineering to all decks,” La Forge’s voice echoed through the PA system. “We are about to re-energise the gravity plating. We will start at ten percent of one Gee….now.”

“Sir,” Data said as he studied the Ops Console. “The engineers have connected several of the shuttlecraft to the EPS grid, providing emergency power. The Warp Drive and Impulse Engines are still down.”

“Worf, you’re with me, we will start diagnostics and repairs on the bridge,” Picard ordered.

“Sir, partially restored sensors show we are drifting in the Oort Cloud of the star we used for the time warp manoeuvre,” Data stood as he reported, ready to go to engineering.

“Sir! Look,” Worf pointed at the viewer, eyes wide.

Picard looked; stars moved across the view screen as the ship spun, then a warp nacelle and part of a strut drifted across the screen. Picard’s legs gave way and he sat down hard. The warp drive was beyond repair.

“La Forge,” he said dully. “Shut down Engineering and get your people to the saucer section. We’ll get back to the Federation with Impulse Drive.”

His body too heavy to move, Picard focussed on his breathing. To lose his ship… The blow was visceral.

Data dropped into his chair, fingers pressing buttons. “I am reading a target lock; we are being hailed.”

“On speakers,” Picard ordered.

A deep voice announced something in a language Picard did not understand.

“Sounds like a bear having a coughing fit,” he speculated.

“It is High Klingon, captain, the language of the Emperor Kahless. They are demanding our immediate surrender,” Worf said.

“Disruptors launched,” Data said.

“How many?” Picard asked in a hoarse voice. Helm was still dark, he could do nothing.

“Sixteen,” Data said.

“Oh, that’s…. unfair,” Picard looked around at the vacated bridge. There would not be time to abandon ship.

Beat.

Beat.

Beat.

His heart counted down his life. 

The ship wobbled.

“Disruptor charges exploded prematurely,” Data said. 

“A warning shot?” Worf wondered.

“I’m afraid our automated defences were built in grandfather’s time. The AIs are rather aggressive,” a stranger’s voice said, in accented modern Klingon. “I apologise for any distress caused.”   
Picard swivelled and found himself looking at a Klingon, dressed in a bright blue tunic and shorts. Bare feet? He was used to Klingons wearing armoured boots with a large talon at the toes. It was small relief that the Klingon did not appear armed: “I presume your defence systems are still targeting my ship?” Picard asked.

La Forge announced artificial gravity had returned to one Gee and Picard willed himself to stand erect. His head and ribs complained at the movement, but he ignored the pain. The top of his head reached the Klingon’s bearded chin, but he pulled his tunic straight and looked the stranger in the eye.

“I shall ask the questions here,” the Klingon thundered. “Who are you and why do you bring a warship into our system?”

Worf placed himself between Picard and the Klingon and growled.

“I am Worf son of Mogh, declare yourself and answer the captain’s questions.”

“Sir, I am being scanned by this individual, on every frequency I can detect,” Data said. He stood and pulled a tricorder from his waist band. “And he is scanning every frequency the tricorder can detect, too. The scans emanate from his stomach area.”

The stranger grinned. A Klingon grin is impressively toothy.

“Our defence AIs reacted to a Klingon life sign. They were not programmed to wonder what all these other life signs might mean- so I came to find out for myself. The Klingon looked around the bridge before staring at Worf.

“I assume, son of Mogh, your father died gloriously in battle? My father died at the age of six hundred and forty, in his bed after a lifetime of research and development.”

“Worf,” Picard gripped the big Klingon’s elbow and moved him gently to one side. As much as he would like to see this smug individual knocked down by Worf, it would serve no good purpose.

“Sir, he has a personal force field, which is making scanning difficult, but I am detecting a power output the equal to a Federation Runabout, emanating from him” Data said.

“I am Captain Jean Luc Picard of the Federation starship Enterprise, and this is not a warship. We are primarily explorers and did not expect to meet Klingons in the Delta Quadrant,” he said, hoping the introduction would move things along. The bridge control systems were coming back on, but there were casualties to see to, repairs to make and he needed to decide whether this Klingon was a new threat or an ally. They needed an ally, but a power equal to a Runabout standing on his bridge, sounded like a threat.


	2. "Who will keep the world from death?"

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Magrans are keen to impress, but Picard is waiting for the other shoe to drop

"Who will keep the world from death?  
Who will stop the coming night?

 

“I am Councillor Treyn of the Magran High Council. We are Klingon 2.0, but we prefer to be called Magrans. This is a large ship and yet you appeared from out of nowhere in our system. I have speculated a time warp?”

“We were under attack from dozens of ships,” Picard admitted. “It seemed the only way to keep my people alive.”

Treyn nodded. “Dangerous move, but it seems to have worked. Do you know how far back in time you have come?”

“I estimate we travelled five to ten years,” Data said.

“This is nonsense,” Worf growled. “There is no colony called Magra in the Klingon Empire: I would have heard of it.” The big Klingon’s teeth showed in a snarl.

“We are not now, nor have we ever been, part of the Empire,” Treyn stated. He stared for a while at the floor as if looking back at the rest of the ship.

“I am recalled by the Council; I will state your case and advise that this ship is no threat to us, and that we should render aid before it falls apart.”

He beamed away. Picard sat down heavily.

“At full impulse, it will take us twenty years to reach Federation space.” He held up a hand to stop Data correcting him to the fifth decimal place. “But if we can get communications working, they can send a ship to us in a few days, so let’s concentrate our efforts on that.”

“Perhaps the Magrans will broadcast a message for us?” Data asked.

“You must not accept assistance from those… things, captain,” Worf snarled. “Their existence dishonours what it means to be Klingon.”

“Worf, my ship is dead and the remains of my crew in grave danger; if they offer help, I cannot in all conscience turn it down,” Picard pointed out. “But we cannot assume what help they may give, so we will carry on as before. Prepare the ship for saucer separation, move whatever resources we can from the secondary hull.”

“Very well, captain,” Data said. “I will climb down to engineering, since the turbolifts are still inoperable.”

Picard sat in the cold. My friend is dead. My ship is dead. The twin thoughts cycled. His body ached, too heavy to move. In a moment, he would move, but he needed time to process the losses.

Trayn materialised and began talking immediately: “the Council have put out a call for volunteers to operate the medical facilities and-“ Magrans appeared on the bridge, the fuzzy lights of transporter energy lasted only an instant and were hard to spot. They all wore colourful clothes of some natural fibre. Picard realised they were following a plan, for they arrived carrying parts and tools, ready to work.

“Come aboard and repair your ship,” Treyn finished.

Hope returned and Picard struggled to his feet.

“Volunteers?” Worf strode over and supervised two Klingons dismantling his tactical station. “Do they have the expertise to repair the Enterprise systems?”

“I am downloading the information directly as people notify me they are willing to come aboard and work,” Trayn aimed the last remark at a group of young Magrans following Worf around the bridge. They had the manner of people at a zoo, looking in the cages.

“Are you saying you can download knowledge to an individual’s brain?” Worf demanded. Treyn nodded.

Picard brushed his combadge: “Mr La Forge, it appears we are to be given help- “

“Sir!” Data said, pointing at the main viewer. It showed Magrans transporting in, floating near the ship and then disappearing again. They appeared to be unharmed by the vacuum of space.

“Your Enterprise has become a tourist attraction,” Treyn grinned and continued in a more commanding tone. “But they might at least stop the ship spinning and retrieve that warp nacelle while they are out there.”

But the grin doesn’t reach his eyes.

Picard’s balance rocked as the ship slowed and the next time he glimpsed the warp nacelle there were figures clustered around it.

“How much aid can you give us?” Picard got to the point. “If we can free the saucer section from the warp drive, we can get home on Impulse Power.”

“No need for that,” Treyn said. “We will return your ship to its original specifications, captain.”

But his voice did not have the same bombastic tone it had earlier. He’s had the wind taken out of his sails.

“How are you doing all this?” Worf demanded. He placed his body between Treyn and the captain.

“We achieved unity with our technology over five centuries ago,” Treyn said. 

“The Emperor Kahless taught that a warrior’s body must remain pure,” Worf said.

“My grandfather was among the warriors who stripped captured Hur’q ships of their secrets. He came to see the universe as a glorious opportunity for learning, rather than a glorious opportunity for battle, so he and his followers left the empire.”

“The Chancellors uphold the will of Kahless,” Worf warned.

“Oh, we know. We have listening posts, we keep ourselves informed. That’s how we know about the Federation and these humans.” Trayn nodded at Picard. “Although we didn’t know there were Klingons serving on Federation ships?”

“Just me,” Worf said.

Two children charged Worf. They wore coloured tunics and trousers, the girl had glitter painted on the peaks of her brow ridges. They barraged Worf with questions about being a warrior; about Kronos. Worf answered the questions as quickly as possible, but the two children were talking over each other and him.

“Quall! Halis! Leave our guest in peace,” Trayn demanded, in a father’s tone. “If you must be aboard this ship, find something useful to do.” The two children vanished, muttering “yes, father,” as they went.

Picard tried to restore order to his thoughts and return to running his ship. He brushed his com badge: “Doctor Crusher from the bridge, casualty report, please?”

“We’re overrun, Jean Luc,” Beverly Crusher sounded exhausted. “I have casualties on the floor, casualties in the corridors, and the Security personnel are acting as corpsmen and bringing in more casualties. Losing the gravity plating hurt a lot of people.”

“Doctor, we will move the injured to our medical facilities, where volunteers are waiting to help,” Treyn announced.

“Oh…. good? Who is this please?” 

“We have found allies Beverly,” Picard said. I hope.

“Okay, we’ll work out who can be moved,” she said.

“No need, we’ll take all the injured and the medical staff, I’m sure your experience of the various physiologies will be useful,” Treyn said.

The abrupt silence on the com startled Picard.

“Doctor Crusher…Beverly?” He tried to keep the alarm from his voice, but failed.  
“And where is Commander Riker’s body?” He demanded, noticing the bridge cleared of bodies.

“All the injured were transported to our medical facilities,” Trayn informed him.

“The commander is not injured- he is dead,” Worf said.

“By your definition, perhaps. But not by ours. I can see you are worried about your crew, captain, so why don’t I give you a tour of our medical facilities?”

 

Picard was in a large, brightly lit room, full of Enterprise crew and Magrans. “I would appreciate a little warning before being transported,” he said.

Trayn pressed an instrument to his head and Picard felt the numbness leave, and then his eye was healed. Trayn explained the purpose of each instrument as he used them, and a little of the history of their development.

You’re trying very hard to impress me, but why?

As far as Picard could see, all the power in the relationship was with the Magrans. It’s almost as if they’re getting ready to ask a favour, but what could we have that they need?  
He watched Ensign Lilli have a leg replaced, failing to hide his amazement. Some kind of replicator technology recreated the missing tissue and bone.

“We don’t have the computing power to replicate living tissue,” he said.

“We only use computers for data storage, and the more mundane work. It is the operator of the device who is calculating where each molecule must go to recreate living cells,” Trayn said.

“You must have a processing speed close to Data’s,” Picard said to the woman working the replicator.

“Yes, that’s why we find him so interesting,” Treyn said. “It will take a few days for us to   
heal this poor fellow, though.” Treyn waved at a head laid out at one end of a table, the neck torn and bloody.

“What? But Lieutenant Brewer is dead,” Picard spluttered as he recognised the face. He prided himself on knowing his crew, but it hurt more when he saw their bodies broken.

“Nonsense, it will just take longer to replace the missing tissue.”

“And Commander Riker?” Picard asked, hope warming his chest.

“I’ll check,” Treyn answered. There was a tiny sparkle next to him and Riker beamed in. He was wearing a clean uniform, but his hair was a mess of dried blood.

“Will!” Picard hugged his friend for a moment, before stepping back and straightening his tunic. 

“Captain, I woke up in a hospital run by Klingons,” Riker said. “I thought I’d been taken prisoner, but they tell me we are their guests and they are not Klingons.”

“We are not,” Treyn assured him. “We are Magrans. Now, what else can I show you, captain? Or perhaps you would like to eat something? We have facilities set up to feed your people once they are back on their feet.”

Picard agreed and minutes later attacked the plateful put in front of him with relish while Treyn regaled the table with tales from Magran history. After a further tour of the medical centre, Picard had to break Treyn’s flow of chat.

“Councilor Treyn, I find I am waiting for the other shoe to drop,” Picard said, facing the man.

“I’m sorry captain, but my knowledge of your language seems to be incomplete?”

“I would love to know how you download information and expertise to the brain,” Picard said.

“Well, I can show you that technology- “Treyn began.

“But some other time.” Picard held up a hand. “Waiting for the other shoe to drop means I have a feeling you are trying to keep me talking, while something else is going on? What you have done for my crew is wonderful, but…”

“Ah. You are right…” Trayn said. “There is a problem.”

 

Picard found himself in the Enterprise Observation Lounge, with Riker, Data, Counsellor Troi and Worf standing, and a group of Magrans already seated. One or two stared down at the glass table top, but some had their faces in their hands.

“This," Trayn announced grandly, “is the Magran High Council.”

“You allow women on the High Council?” Worf barked. Picard winced, he had wanted to get to the meat of the problem.

“Easier than trying to stop ‘em,” one of the old males said. Picard noted that the room was longer than usual, to allow seats for all the Magrans and leave empty seats for himself and his officers.

“I am Kolth, son of Draketh,” the old Magran introduced himself to Worf in the traditional way.

Treyn ushered Picard to his usual seat at the head of the table.

“Understand, we have cloaked listening posts near the Klingon Empire, and are in regular contact with the star systems around us,” Treyn said, to introduce the problem. “We trade and exchange learning whenever the opportunity arises, which is how we know about your Federation.”

“I am Garyl, Captain, I am what you would call an astronomer,” a woman introduced herself. “We compared your star maps to ours, and calculated that you have travelled back in time- 18 years.”

“And why does that worry you so much, Garyl?” Picard asked. He had a lot of experience at reading Klingon faces. Magran faces were not that different. These people have had the rug pulled out from under them.

“Our grandparents and parents spent their lives exploring the galaxy and learning from the peoples they met,” Treyn said. “It was our generation who terraformed the planets in this stellar system… who created Magran society, and now you bring us this….”

A hologram of the Enterprise sensor display appeared above the table. 

“We downloaded the Enterprise sensor logs from the attack and processed them. You can understand, the possibility of a fleet of warships on our doorstep was a worry. This hologram represents the output of that processing,” Garyl said.

Kolth reached over the table and enlarged a star system until the planets were the size of marbles and the star they orbited moved back through the wall. 

“This is Magra and these are her planets,” the old Magran said. “Notice there are no life signs in the entire system?” His voice was low and husky. “Six billion Magrans gone in 18 years. I have great grandchildren, captain.”

The hologram changed to show a close up of one of the attack ships. 

“The replicator technology your assailants used to create ships, is ours,” Treyn confessed. “But ship construction and engine design are closer to what the Parisee use. The Parisee occupy one of the other star systems you scanned, which is also lifeless in your time.”

“But the material make-up of the hull and the engines are unlike the technology of either peoples,” Garyl said, “which may suggest a third party invades both systems and then incorporates our technology into their own.”

“Or it’s an automated system we build that turns on us,” Kolth murmured. “There are no life signs on any of those ships. They are fully automated.”

“Or the Parisee,” Treyn added. “We wouldn’t leave the control of a system like that to computers, but the Parisee would.”

“You have delivered us a tricky problem, captain,” Kolth admitted, nodding his bony head. “Knowing the facts you have brought from the future, can we avoid extinction? Or is it our response to this knowledge which brings our extinction?”

“A tricky problem?” Garyl spluttered. “Inside 18 years all our children are dead- and you call that a tricky problem?”

Garyl’s shoulders shook and Kolth leaned over and took her in his arms. The old Magran’s face looked ready for tears. It shook Picard to his core to see so much naked grief.

“I must also point out you would create a bootstrap paradox by using our information to escape extinction since that changes the future, which means the Enterprise will never be attacked and escape through a time warp, to give you the information you used to escape extinction,” Data informed the table. Picard struggled to follow the twisted thread of logic.

“We know,” Treyn said. “It will take three days to finish repairs to the Enterprise and your crew. We assume you will want to return to your own time and can plot a safe and efficient time warp course for you.”

“Thank you, that’s very gracious, especially under the circumstances,” Picard said. “If there is any way we can help with this.” He nodded at the hologram. “We will try.”

Kolth stared at Picard for a long moment before speaking. “We Magran like to believe ourselves the intellectual superior to most of the peoples we meet. But you, Captain, outnumbered and out gunned, surrounded in every direction, still found a way out. If you see any way out of this conundrum, we will hear you out.”

They vanished, and the room returned to its normal proportions.

“I have met gods and demi gods and fake gods, but these technologically advanced Magrans, are hard to keep up with,” Picard admitted. “Number One, let’s get the Enterprise back on her feet.” 

Picard caught Data opening his mouth and added: “figuratively speaking.”

The senior staff returned to running the ship. Crew numbers swelled as people returned from the medical centres.

 

“Captain, you should go to bed,” Riker suggested, as he noticed Picard nodding off in his chair. Picard jerked awake and looked around at the bridge. People were doing their jobs, systems were being repaired or replaced. No one appeared to need a captain right now. He realised his First Officer was right, and it would be a good time to catch some sleep.

He studied Riker’s haggard face. 

“You should too, Will, let’s call this the night shift and hand command over to Data.”

“I would, but he’s on the Magran home world, studying their technology while they are studying him. He’s in hog heaven,” Riker grinned.

“Oh,” Picard said, then realised he had to ask. “Will, you were dead for over an hour. Is there… any ill effect from your experience?”

“Not so far, captain,” Riker said. “The last thing I remember is running from Tactical towards the helm when I saw Lieutenant Cleaver thrown across the bridge. Then I woke up in the hospital.”

The girl appeared, then her brother. He chased her around the bridge.

“Stay off the bridge,” Picard barked. “This is no place for children of any species.”  
The siblings vanished at the turbolifts.

“In what way?” Picard asked, turning back to Riker.

“Permission to speak freely?”

“Always, Will.”

“You’ve allowed the Magrans access to every part of the ship, but many of our systems are top secret- especially from Klingons.”

“Magrans differ greatly from Klingons,” Picard said.

“They are more technologically advanced,” Riker conceded. “Even more advanced than the Vulcans or the Borg.”

“Yes, and when they pushed themselves on us, I worried about their true motivations for helping us. But in the Observation Lounge, when they discovered their system will be barren of life in 18 years…” Picard paused. “They are not concerned about their accomplishments being remembered. They are not concerned about their technological accomplishments. What concerns them most are the lives of their children. The Vulcans gave up emotions to reach the achievements they have. The Borg gave up their soul. These Magrans seem to have achieved unity with their technology and kept what makes them human- or people, rather.”

Picard stood. “That is the saddest part of all this. Vulcans or Borg feel nothing when they die, but these people will endure all the pain and terror we ourselves would experience.”

Picard walked off to the turbolifts, head bowed, shoulders slumped under the weight of his thoughts.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Worf is growing a head of steam, Picard considers his conscience

THREE  
And out of a fabulous story  
We fashion an empire’s glory:

 

Picard breakfasted in his ready room.

“Captain’s log, stardate…. It is difficult to be precise. We have discovered that the Magrans, the people who gave us such timely assistance are extinct in our own time. If there is any way the Enterprise can assist them to survive, I have resolved to render that assistance. I believe this will cause friction with Worf, I will have to find a way around that.”

While he ate, the screen on his desk showed scenes broadcast from the Magran homeworld. They had a number of entertainment channels and Picard had found a program that focussed on buildings as art. There were machine made structures tens of miles tall. When the door signalled, he called “Come.”

Treyn appeared in the middle of the room.

“Good morning, captain, I hope you slept well,” Trayne said, obviously not expecting an answer to the social nicety. Trayne himself did not look as if he had slept. His eyes were red and the bags under them heavy and black.

“Very well, thank you,” Picard said, waving the man to a seat. “Magran manners are certainly different from the Klingons.”

“I absorbed the records of human customs,” Treyn said

“I wish I could absorb information as easily. According to this program, Magran’s take turns designing buildings and cities? It appears you have turned architecture into an art form.”

"It's a phase we all seem to go through," Trayn replied. Suddenly they were in a large room, divided by chest high partitions. The children played in an area in the middle distance. Picard guessed it would take him several minutes to walk the across this one room. “We built on a large scale, because we expected to live forever.”

Picard walked to a window wall and looked down and up. The outer structure looked to be made of a form of ruby glass. Ribs of glass reflected the light of Magra. All around this tower were others of different shapes and colours, some tens of miles high. 

“It’s elegant and beautiful,” he concluded.

“Thank you, although it’s a bit of a failure, only a couple of hundred thousand Magrans have chosen to occupy it."

The floor was black and splashed like liquid as he stepped, although Picard noted that his shoes did not appear wet.

“Hologram flooring?” he asked.

“My current partner is an artist, her work is all about texture.”

Picard noted a series of large objects placed around the room. Some were four metres high and of different textures and colours. They all moved. Picard concluded they were a mix of reality and hologram, to the point where you could not tell one from the other.

“These would be her work?”

“Yes. This must all seem a little grandiose to you?”

“More than a little,” Picard admitted. “But understandable that you would use this level of technological achievement to enhance your living space.”

“Look on my works ye might, and despair,” Trayn said as he joined Picard by the window, to look out over his city.

“You’ve memorised Shelley too?”

“I know the feeling he was trying to convey,” Treyn answered. They were back in Picard’s ready room, he sat and reached for his tea.

“If I were truly mighty, there would be a way I could help you,” he answered as he refilled his glass with Earl Grey tea.

“There is a way you can help us.”

“Oh? So what can I do for you?” Picard asked and sipped tea.

“We ask you to take our children to your time.”

Picard spluttered tea. “How many children are there?”

“Eight hundred thousand, seven hundred and three,” Treyn answered, unblinking.

“I’m sorry, but the Enterprise cannot carry that many people.” Picard breathed through his mouth, afraid of where this conversation was going. The Magrans could transport through shields, leaving the Enterprise no defences against them.

“Enterprise won’t have to. We are developing what you call a transporter buffer, large enough to contain our children’s patterns for years,” Treyn said. “The mathematics are causing problems, but Kolth believes it will be ready by tomorrow morning. It will not affect your ship or crew in any way. When you release it in your time, the container will make it’s own way at warp two.”

“To where?”

“We hope to leave a coded signal for the children to follow- if any of us survive,” Treyne said bitterly.

Picard sipped tea, it gave him a moment to consider his response. “I should discuss this with my senior officers, he decided.

They left it at that and Picard made his way to the bridge. He paused at the doors of the turbolift to look around. The Bridge looked as it always had. He was hard pressed to see any evidence of battle damage.

Worf was Officer of the Day, but worked at Tactical rather than occupy the command chair.

“You are relieved, Mr Worf,” Picard said.

“I stand relieved,” Worf gave the expected reply without looking up from his console.

“Report please, Mr Worf?” Picard reminded him gently.

“Tactical is a mess, sir, there are new systems and repaired systems and Magran made parts; everything is mis-aligned and uncalibrated,” Worf said. “I do not believe we can hit a planet in our current condition.”

“And the rest of the ship?” 

“Most of the crew have returned. Most ship systems are showing nominal and La Forge estimates we will be ready to leave in another three hours,” Worf reported. “Although we would be defenceless if we did.”

“Call senior officers to the Observation Lounge,” Picard said. “We’ve been asked a favour by the Magrans.”

Worf placed his palm on the Tactical station and leaned his wait on them. Picard braced his shoulders for the angry outburst.

“Sir, we cannot aid those… those creatures,” Worf growled. “Better leave them to their fate.”

“Lieutenant,” Picard reminded him of their work relationship. “That smacks of ingratitude.”

Worf spluttered but dropped his head and summoned the senior staff.

 

Picard walked through to the Observation Lounge, took his customary seat and waited. He was in two minds about the advisability of rescuing the Magran children. Could we somehow alter our own future? 

He watched his senior staff arrive and take seats. Worf sat with his arms crossed and canines bared. Everyone but Data looked tired. Normally, Picard enjoyed this room, with its floor to ceiling windows giving a view of the stars, but now the view of Magra only served to remind him of the problem.

“Beverly, you look tired. Didn’t the Magrans ease your workload?” Picard asked.

“I’ve been working with Data and the Magrans to adapt their medical technology for our use. The problem is, we don’t have the computing power to use transporter and replicator technology the way they do.”

“Pity,” Picard said. He looked La Forge over. Even though a visor hid his eyes, the young Chief Engineer looked as if he had not slept. Picard realised he had not spoken to Geordi face to face for almost four days.

“We have been asked a favour by the Magrans-“ Picard began and Worf snorted. “And I would like your opinions.”

He then explained the situation in detail.

“We should do it,” Counsellor Troi said. “Why heal us and repair Enterprise, if they wished us harm?”

“Good point, counsellor,” Picard acknowledged.  
“And I’m picking up real concern over their children,” Counsellor Troi said. Tears brimmed in her large dark eyes. Not for the first time, Picard wondered what it must be like to be an empath and feel other people’s emotions.

Riker took her hand and squeezed it.

“We cannot trust the Magrans,” Worf declared. “That device could be a security threat.”

“Chief O’Brien and I could run scans on the device before we leave,” La Forge suggested. “He would love a look at a buffer that can hold a billion patterns at once.”

“They should be left to their fate,” Worf said, staring at the smoked glass of the table top.

“Why?” Picard asked.

“Because they have broken with our traditions, tossed away everything that is Klingon,” Worf said. 

You didn’t need to be an empath to read Klingon anger.

“They believe they have improved on what it means to be Klingon,” Riker pointed out.

“Did you believe the Borg when they claimed to improve people?” Worf asked.

“Good point, Mr Worf,” Picard said calmly. “But we are talking about the lives of children here.”

“Would you say that about Borg children?” Worf challenged. “Or would you try to cure them of being Borg?”

“I would try to save them from the Borg,” Picard admitted. “But the Borg strip away everything that makes us who we are. It seems to me the Magrans have augmented their physical forms, but kept their individuality.”

“They have twisted everything that is Klingon! Thrown away our traditions, our way of life and death.”

“They seem as fierce and single minded as any Klingons I’ve met” Riker said. “Only now they’re obsessed by research and technology. No wonder they are more advanced than the Vulcans.”

“Science is a pursuit for women,” Worf said.

“Would it help to consider the Magrans as a different species?” Data asked. “I have noticed that you do not have problems with other technologically advanced species.”

“Other species do not claim to have evolved from Klingons,” Worf pointed out.

“Perhaps you should stand down from duty, Mr Worf, at least until we are back in our own time,” Picard said. “The Magrans helped us when this ship and her crew were in dire need; it’s only fair to help them if we can.”

Worf looked stunned for a moment; stared into space. Picard gave him time to come to a fair conclusion.

“I will continue in my post and follow your orders, captain,” he said. “I am your Security Chief and I would be failing in my duty if I did not examine this device for myself.”

“Very well,” Picard said. “Then I believe, we should carry the device back to our own time, provided it is not a danger to this ship or her crew. The second problem I wish to discuss is: do we return to Federation space before returning to our own time- which would guarantee we don’t meet our attackers again- or do we return to our own time in this star system, which would guarantee we meet our attackers.”

“We’ve only just put the Enterprise back together, we shouldn’t risk meeting those ships again,” La Forge said.

“But returning to Federation space twenty years early, would mean passing those dead worlds we scanned during the battle. By doing so, there is a small chance that we may be responsible for the extinction of those civilisations,” Data pointed out. “Even if we do not interact with them directly, someone may scan the Enterprise and develop new technology.”

“But that would mean we already travelled across their territory, because those worlds were dead when we passed them in the future. So in order not to change our past” La Forge pointed out, his face twisting in concentration. “We must return through their territories before jumping forward to our own time?”

“Perhaps,” Data said. “But we have no certain knowledge that would render it a probability that we brought about the destruction of those civilisations, it is merely a possibility.”

“What if we return thirty minutes before we left?” Worf asked. “Then there would be two Enterprises and we are fresh for battle.”

“Then we would remember seeing ourselves arrive,” Data pointed out. “And what if our arrival delays the captain’s decision to time warp; we risk changing our recent past.”

“Hang on,” Riker said. “If we return half an hour before we left- then we may not leave? I’m confused.”

“Commander Riker would be a living Schroedinger’s Cat experiment: alive and dead at the same time. I wonder if-“Data said.

“Let’s not risk changing our own recent past,” Picard held up a hand. “We have been lucky our dead and injured were returned to us that may not happen if we change something.”

“I agree,” Riker grinned suddenly. “I don’t like the idea of not knowing if I’m alive or dead.”

“Very well,” Worf nodded. “But what if we return to our time five minutes before we left, but on the other side of one of those blank spots we scanned?”

“Always looking for the tactical advantage, Mr Worf, but how does that benefit us?” Picard asked.

“We attack one blind spot and bring down their cloaking technology. Our scans would show us who they are and how they generate the vast energies needed to replicate a fleet of ships. The rest of the fleet willstill be focussed on our older selves, so nothing of our past will be changed.”

“We do not have the ability to calculate a return coarse with that level of precision,” Data said.

“But those replicator ships are a danger to the Federation. They are only a week at warp 8 away from our border,” Worf pressed his argument.

“We don’t have the technical ability, but the Magrans might,” Picard pointed out. Worf squared his shoulders ready for another argument, and then slumped in defeat.

“It would benefit the Federation to know how these ships work and what their intentions are,” he admitted.

“But how do we escape with that knowledge?” Riker asked. “We have no idea how large the cloaked ship’s area of influence is, or how to get back to Federation space in one piece.”

Picard drummed his fingers on the glass table top: “We need more information. We must find a way to predict how far the influence of our attackers stretches. Is there some way to interrupt their ability to replicate ships? Data and Geordi, contact the Magrans and see if their analysts can give us these answers. We will reconvene at the same time tomorrow to decide our course home.” 

Picard sat alone in his Ready Room. He had spent most of the past half hour staring at the desk top, allowing his thoughts to wander around the various problems they faced.

“Captain’s log supplemental:” he recorded. “I am on the point of alienating Worf. He is too important a part of this crew for that to happen. But I cannot in all conscience turn away the Magrans. I must find a way to keep Worf and give the assistance my conscience believes is the Magran’s due.”

He returned to staring at the table top.


	4. Schism

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After centuries of peace and scientific progress, Magran society begins to break down. Will the Enterprise crew be caught in the middle?

I shall be telling this with a sigh  
Somewhere ages and ages hence:  
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

 

Picard occupied the command chair reading reports from department heads and issuing orders. He noted Riker enter the bridge and take a walk around the science stations and tactical area before dropping into his seat. He leaned over conspiratorially and said:

“Worf just cornered me in the turbolift: he wants me to back his call that the Magrans are left to their own devices.”

“And do you? Back him, I mean,” Picard asked.

“I’m not sure. Old Earth has many examples of humans introducing creatures to places they didn’t belong… it never worked out.”

“I know what you mean, Number One- rats destroying Dodo eggs and so on?” 

“Actually, I was thinking of the later work to re-introduce the Dodo. Some lab retro-engineered the bird’s DNA from a few feathers and existing pigeons and the Dodos went on to destroy the local ecology, which had adjusted for the original loss.”

“So you believe saving the Magran children would be a mistake?”

“I`m in two minds, I mean I’m alive thanks to their medical technology, so it seems ungrateful to turn them away when we can help.”

“That is my own feeling, Number One. We may risk damaging the future by bringing these children to our time, but how can we refuse? What is the most ethical decision here?” Picard looked pained.

Data presented himself and asked the captain to accompany him to a science station. Picard and Riker followed.

“Sir,” Data brought up a star map graphic. “I analysed all sensor and communication logs recorded during the battle and deduced the size of the `dead zone. ` Therefore, assuming this is the area controlled by the drone ships which attacked us, the closest living civilisation will be 14 light years from point of entry, if we return to our own time using the Magran sun.”

“The Enterprise could cover that in minutes at Warp 9.7,” Riker supplied.

“Find out all you can about those people,” Picard ordered. “Try to work out how they survive when the Magrans don’t? We must assume the drone ships will pursue us, so we may not be welcome once we cross the border.”

Picard rubbed his temples: “strategizing in four dimensions is giving me a headache.”

“I shall contact the Magrans and ask what information they have on this area of space,” Data said.

“Make it so,” Picard said.

 

Picard had learned early in his career not to micromanage. But this time curiosity got the better of him and he watched from the interior door of cargo bay 4 when the device beamed in. It filled the Enterprise’s largest cargo bay, from interior door to exterior door and floor to ceiling. There was only just room to walk around it. Magrans accompanied the device and moved to run diagnostics on it.

“This is an amazing piece of technology,” Chief O’Brien said as he scanned it. With so much of the ceiling covered, the remaining light was dull and the lights on his tricorder dazzled Picard.

“We’ve applied transporter technology in different ways over the centuries,” Councillor Treyn said. Slumped against the wall, there were dark bags under his eyes and Picard guessed he had not slept. “But this is the first time we’ve used it to build an ark.” 

“The Magrans may not be extinct after all, captain,” he said without moving. “Kolth and some of the older generation have started designing shipyards. They want to return to the wanderer lifestyle of our grandparents.”

“I gather from your tone you disapprove?” Picard asked.

“Magrans are dividing on generational lines- Kolth’s generation want to go back to the stars, my generation want to stay and fight to keep all that we have built.”

“Even though you know you cannot win? You have created wonders.” Picard nodded. “But surely the lives of the people who created the wonders are more important?”

“The power systems are stable,” La Forge announced as he walked around the device. “So unless Worf has found something, it’s no danger to-”

“There are other scans we could run,” Worf interrupted. He took a stance between Picard and Treyne. The councillor came off the wall and poked him in the chest with a finger as he replied:

“Why? Why did we rebuild your ship and heal your crew if we wish you harm?”

“Perhaps you need this device moved into the future for some other reason?” Worf said, pushing Treyne’s hand away. He towered over the Magran and Picard decided to calm things down before a fight broke out.

“Mr Worf-“ Was as far as Picard got.

“Ah, Klingons, always suspicious of others,” Treyn sneered. He put both hands on Worf’s chest and shoved, but the big Klingon refused to budge. “We are entrusting you with what we value most- our children. Maybe it is the Magrans who should be suspicious here?”

“Councillor, please, there is no need for-“ Picard managed.

“We only have your word that this… device contains the patterns of your children,” Worf pointed out, pushing the Magran back against the wall.

“Mr Worf, stand down,” Picard ordered. “We do not shove guests!”

“Are you calling me a liar?” Treyn demanded. “I warn you, I am short on sleep and short on patience.”  
Picard risked a quick glance at the other Magrans. They looked shocked by what was happening and showed no signs of intervening.

“Commander,” Chief O’Brien told Worf. “I’ve scanned the energy held in the buffer, and it equals the energy of nine hundred million patterns.” The Transporter Chief placed an arm between the Klingon and the Magran. “I don’t know how it works, but that’s what’s in there.”

“When we share technology like this transporter buffer,” Treyn said, stepping back. “We prefer to monitor its use. I’m afraid that won’t be possible here, but perhaps in the future our children will-”

“They may be soldiers, like that Greek wooden horse,” Worf said. Treyne lunged passed the Transporter Chief. Worf struck with an upper cut and shoved the councillor back from O`Brien. 

“Get off me!” Treyn yelled, Worf flew the length of the cargo bay and smashed into a wall. He hit the floor like a bundle of rags. O’Brien was pinned to the wall, arms and legs splayed.

“Enough! Councillor Treyn!” Picard barked. “This ends now.”

Treyn halted, breathing hard, and made a visible effort to control himself. O’Brien slid gently to the ground.

“I apologise captain, and to Chief O’Brien. But this needs to be said,” Treyn stalked the length of the cargo bay in the time it took Worf to stagger to his feet. Picard admired the big Klingon’s resilience, even as he deplored his lack of restraint.

“Councillor Trayn,” Picard warned, looking for a way to defuse the situation. “As a guest aboard my ship and someone I consider a friend, I ask you to show restraint.”

The Magran held up both hands as he walked, to show he meant no harm.

“While your people were attacking every new species they met,” the councillor said to Warf. “My ancestors were exploring and learning from everyone they met. While you Klingons were leaving science to the women, we attacked our own ignorance; we challenged the unknown and now….” A force bubble formed around Worf and swept him into the air… “We have powers and abilities you can only dream of. We thought we were immortal… we thought we were gods!”

The force bubble placed Worf at Picard’s feet.

“And now we are reduced to begging favours from passing strangers.” Treyn looked Picard in the eyes. “Do what is best for you and your people,” he said, and vanished.

Picard looked down at his security chief for a long moment: “Mr Worf, report to sickbay, allow the doctor to look you over.”

“I’m fine, captain,” Worf said as he climbed to his feet.

“That was an order, lieutenant,” Picard said. He put his mouth close to Warf’s ear, because there were strangers in the room. “You are the bravest man I’ve ever met- but your actions here today were stupid. You put the entire ship’s crew in jeopardy because of your pride. Stay in sickbay until you calm down. Go.”

“Sir, Data would like to see you in engineering,” La Forge whispered to Picard as Warf turned and left without a word. “We have a visitor who wants to keep the visit secret.”

“We do? Who and why?” 

“You can ask himself, sir,” La Forge answered, as he led the way to his office, he asked. “How do you do that, sir? With your tone of voice?”

“How do I do what?” Picard asked, although his thoughts were elsewhere. He was going over the argument in his mind. Magrans had witnessed Treyn’s loss of control which might affect his leadership position, and Picard was trying to predict how that could affect his ship and crew.

“You ordered a techno-god to stand down, sir, and he did,” La Forge said. “You sounded certain there could be no other outcome. How do you do that?”

“Lots of practice with Q,” Picard answered. He walked into the office ahead of his chief engineer and was greeted by Kolth.

“Ah, captain,” Kolth said. The older Magran had bags under his eyes and a weary expression. It seems no one is getting much sleep. “We made an interesting discovery. Might be the first good news we’ve had for a while.”

Data occupied a computer console. He chose to smile at Picard took it as a hopeful sign.

“Good news?” he asked.

“Let him hear it, Data,” Kolth ordered. 

“The Magrans have been analysing our sensor logs in greater detail than we could and have distinguished a signal from the background noise,” Data informed the room. “It appears to originate from the safe zone, and from a person we are familiar with.”

Data pressed a button and a familiar voice said: “-is way. Come this way.” Repeating.

“That sounds like Councillor Garyll,” Picard said.

“It is, sir,” Data said. “We compared recordings of her voice to confirm it.”

“Which means at least some Magrans are alive in your time,” Kolth said cheerfully. “And proves we are right to build ships.”

“Or Councillor Garyll’s voice has been used to set a trap,” Data pointed out. The Magran’s face fell.

“Is there any way we could find out if this is a trap?” Picard asked.

“Not from this point in the time stream,” Data replied after a moment of consideration.

“You mean, the only way to find out if this voice is a lure, is to follow her advice?” Picard asked.

“Yes sir,” Data said.

“I’m told you are in two minds whether to return to your own time from our system,” Kolth interrupted. “Or to return to Federation space first, and then time warp forward?”

“Yes,” Picard admitted. “The dangers of returning to the battle are obvious and calculable, the dangers of returning to Federation space first, are unknown and incalculable.”

“What if I were to admit,” Kolth said. “That the lifeboat in the Enterprise hold has shield generators capable of protecting the whole ship?”

Kolth passed a small control pad to Picard. “Press the triangle twice.”

Picard studied Kolth’s face for a moment, decided to trust him and pressed the button. An alarm beeped from somewhere in engineering and LaForge trotted out. Picard waited. He focussed on his breathing to stop his mind racing ahead and making up stories.

“Sir, there are shields protecting the ship,” LaForge announced as soon as he stuck his head into the room. “And they are 300% stronger than the Enterprise own shields.”

“How do I turn them off?” Picard asked Kolth. 

“Tap the blue square three times,” the Magran replied. Picard did so and La Forge ducked back out of the room, and took several minutes to return.

“The shields are off, and we ran a level three diagnostic, they don’t appear to have affected any Enterprise systems or drained our power.”

“Very good,” Picard said. Do I trust this man? But then, why would he betray us now? 

“Geordi, prepare the Enterprise to leave in ten hours,” Picard decided. “We will return to the battle from here.”

 

Picard returned to his bedroom, set an alarm and popped a sleeping pill. He despised the things, but he needed to be fresh for the battle to come.


	6. chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> do they leave or do they stay?

The Hour of Departure Has Arrived,  
And We Go Our Ways

 

 

Picard was shaving after a restless night’s sleep when his combadge bleeped.  
“Doctor Crusher to Picard.”  
“Yes doctor?” he asked. So beautiful, if only she wasn’t part of my crew. 

“Captain,” she said. Ah, this is a business call then. “Worf tells me you sent him to sickbay yesterday until he calms down?”

“Yes, I did,” Picard admitted.

“Well he’s still here,” Crusher said. “We’re preparing to treat casualties today and the man is refusing to leave.”

“I’ll come straight down, Picard out.” You’ve underestimated Klingon stubbornness again. 

Picard strode into sickbay and looked around for Doctor Crusher. Young doctors and nurses were running maintenance checks on equipment. If we’re very lucky and quick, this won’t be needed, he reassured himself. He had never allowed himself to become comfortable with losing people.

Crusher entered the room and grabbed him by the arm.

“This way,” she said.

“Has Mr Worf been causing difficulties, doctor?”

“Not really,” the doctor admitted. “He’s just filling a bed we might need.”

Picard followed the doctor into a side ward of eight beds. His Security Chief lay in full uniform staring at the ceiling, his arms crossed. Picard decided how to handle the warrior as he strode across the room.

“Mr Worf, on your feet,” Picard barked like a parade ground sergeant of old. “Resume your duties and yesterday will not go on your permanent record.”

Worf leapt out of bed and stood to attention.

“I wish to resign my commission,” he said, staring at the wall behind Picard. “This is not about my pride, serving on this ship has become incompatible with Klingon ideals of honour. My ideals.”

“Your ideals are important, Worf,” Picard moved the conversation onto a more informal footing. “But Kolth has provided a course that will return us to our own time, almost where and when we left. We will be ideally placed to disable one of those motherships and board her.” 

“That was my idea!”

“Yes, and it is a good one,” Picard admitted. “But we may have to fight our way out and there’s no one I’d rather have at Tactical.”

“Then it would be my honour to continue fighting for the Federation,” Worf decided.

 

Picard got as far as the corridor outside sickbay, before the com system summoned him. 

“Captain Picard to engineering,” LaForge’s voice echoed through the corridor. Picard slapped his combadge and answered:

“I’ll be there shortly, LaForge.” He turned and sought the turbolift that would take him to the Main Engineering deck. He found LaForge and O’Brien in a nook off the main room.  
O’Brien looked around to make sure he was not overheard before he said:  
“I did what you asked, sir, and hung around with the Magrans when they installed that device in the cargo hold.”

La Forge handed him a small box. It had a hinged plastic cover protecting one button.

“This morning,” La Forge said. “We rigged up two devices of our own. One’s a small explosive in the right place and one’s a chronotron field emitter.”

“And what do they do?” Picard knew the basics of engineering, but both these men were adepts.

“Flip back the cover.” LaForge pointed to the box. “Then press the red button and it turns the device off.”

“I warn you though,” O’Brien frowned. “That scrubs all the patterns in the buffer. Gone for good.”

“We thought,” LaForge waved a hand at himself and the transporter chief. “It might be a useful last resort.”

“Ah,” Picard sat and stared at the box in his hand. This will kill billions of children. Or save my ship. Or both?

“Let’s hope I don’t have to use it.”

 

The turbolift carried Picard to the bridge, he tugged the hem of his tunic straight and ran a finger around his collar just before the doors opened. 

“Are we ready Number One?” He asked Riker, who was leaning over helm control, reading the panel. Picard noticed he was wearing a space suite and had left the helmet next to his chair.  
“Yes sir,” Riker replied. “All systems are showing nominal, La Forge reports all engines available,” Riker reported. “Data believes that an automated ship will not have an atmosphere, so I’ve kitted the Away Team out for that contingency. We are ready to go on your word.”

“Good, because I hope to get in, find the information we need and get away without damaging my ship,” Picard said as he slumped into his seat.

Riker grinned: “Winded? Enterprise is a big ship.”

“I am far from winded, Number One,” Picard admonished with a straight face.

“I heard the captain of the Odyssey uses a Segway to get from the Bridge to Engineering.”

“The day I need assistance to get from one end of my ship, to the other,” Picard declared. “Is the day they can put me out to grass.”  
“Captain to all decks,” Picard raised his tenor voice and the computer activated the PA system. “We will return to our own time close to the point we left. We are doing this for two reasons: one, to minimise damage to the timeline and two, the Federation needs information about the ships that attacked us. We will be at Battle Stations the moment we re-enter our own time period. Picard out.”

“Helm, ready?” Picard asked. The helmsman answered in the affirmative.”

“Let’s hope luck is on our side,” Picard said.

The turbolift doors opened and Councillor Troi and Worf entered the bridge. He took his station with a nod to Picard, and the councillor took her seat at his left hand without a word.

“How is crew moral?” Picard asked the councillor.

“Mixed,” Troi replied. “We’ve had our confidence knocked by that last battle, but we trust our captain.”

“That’s reassuring,” Picard said.

“Some people are looking forward to locking horns with those warships again,” she continued. “They want payback for the damage done to us.”

“Let’s hope they get it. Very well, helmsman, en-”

The bridge filled with Magrans. Worf yanked a phaser from under his console and rushed forward as they surrounded Picard.

“Stand down, boy,” Kolth roared. “We’re only here to wish you luck.”

Worf lowered the phaser as Kolth clapped Picard on the back. “And wish us luck in return, eh, Picard? We’ll be ready for deep space within the year.”

“Yes, of course,” Picard said as he gathered his wits. He spotted Garyll in the group and was about to ask if Kolth had told her of their discovery yesterday when the old Magran leaned in and whispered.

“We’ve said nothing of that repeating message to Garyll, no need to create a bootstrap paradox, eh?”

“I understand: if you tell her what the message is, then she will broadcast the message only because we recorded her broadcast. Agreed,” Picard whispered back. “That way madness lies.”

Kolth moved off to talk to Data, and Picard faced Councillor Trayne. The Magran’s face was long and his shoulders rigid. "The hour of departure has arrived, and we go our ways. I to die, and you to live. Which is better God only knows.”

“Socrates’ Apology?” Picard hazarded. “Have you been studying our philosophers?”

“I have found Socrates` courage in the face of death a great example,” Treyn admitted. “When his society betrayed him, he drank the poisoned cup with dignity. If he was fearful, he never let it show.”

“Has someone betrayed you?” Picard asked, drawing himself up to his full height.

“Not you, Picard,” Treyn replied. “Not even your Klingon, who is only staying true to what he is. I have been betrayed by my fellow Magrans,” his voice rose in volume enough to carry across the bridge, “who are going to pack up and run away.”

Picard winced and glanced around. Kolth had his back to them and was probably deliberately ignoring Trayn.

“You could still go with them,” Picard urged. “With Kolth and the others.”

“No, I believe I cannot. Someone has to stay and fight whatever comes for us. If only to find out what it takes to destroy the Magrans.”

Treyn bowed with exaggerated dignity and vanished. Others took his place. They were mostly solemn, although some like Kolth, seemed to be looking forward to returning to a wanderer’s life style. Councillor Garylle was last to present herself to Picard. She was the only Magran wearing a luminous blue tunic which reflected the colour of her eyes.

“And may I ask which faction you have joined?” Picard asked.

“I’ve never been a joiner,” Garyll admitted. 

“Oh?”

“I’m afraid I’m leading the third faction.”

“And what option does that cover?”

“We are also building ships,” Garyll admitted. “But we are going to stay until Magra is attacked. We shall study the forces come against us in the hope of defeating them at a later date. We also intend to leave a trail for you to follow, once we are safe.”

Ah. That explains the broadcast.

Garyll took his hand. “You must keep our children safe. Please?”

The councillors eyes brimmed with tears.

“I have both children and grandchildren in your cargo bay,” she admitted. “I always enjoyed bringing new people into the world.”

“I will do everything in my power to carry them safely clear of the Dead Zone.” Picard squeezed her hand firmly and touched her knuckles to his stomach. It was an old diplomat’s body language trick to engender trust. It seemed to work on Garyll. She squeezed his hand once more and smiled as she stepped back. The Magrans vanished and the bridge seemed suddenly empty. Picard took his seat between Riker and Troi.

“Helm, engage,” he ordered. Enterprise jumped to warp, her powerful engines vibrated as the star Magra grew larger on the main viewer.

Picard was shoved back into his chair as the sun grew larger on the view screen. The Magran home world flashed by and he used the auxiliary panel on his chair arm to look at the sensor feeds. There were billions of life signs on four of the worlds the Enterprise was warping past. Millions more on the moons and living on stations in orbit. Each life sign had the power of a techno god. What force exterminates all these species? He knew his curiosity would not be satisfied until he found out.


End file.
